


Weak at the Knees

by slashsailing



Series: Lost Boys' Ink (Tattoo Studio AU) [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashsailing/pseuds/slashsailing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Lost Boys' Ink'.</p><p>Set roughly two years after Lost Boys finishes, when Jim has finally graduated from college. It's his first time getting inked in a while and he's a little nervous—as always, Bones takes great pleasure in this fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weak at the Knees

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've gotten back into this 'verse. I've been writing heaps of tattoo AU drabbles on tumblr, but nothing for this. Yesterday the inspiration struck, and here we are.

"Let’s do them a different day, huh? _Please_.” 

"No time like the present, Jim. No point putting it off." 

Jim watches Leo smirk—he wishes he could stop himself from squirming but he can’t. They said today, so they’re gonna do it today. 

"I want you to remember you cried for both your ribs and when Scotty did that tiny amount of work up your spine."

"Don’t be petty," Bones huffs. "Now, sit in the chair and stay quiet. You know you’ll be fine." 

"I don’t think I can do it. I’m not ready for this kind of pain. Come on, Bones. Have a little compassion." 

"I got my knee done when I was nineteen and it was fine so quit bein’ a child about it. You’ve done your ribs, you’ve done your chest. Christ, Jim. You sit like a rock. Just take a breath and calm down. I’ve got you." 

"Yeah, you’ve also got a gun."

"You say it like you’ve never been inked before." Leo scoffs. "We can stop after the line work. I’ll let you have cake." 

“ _Please_ , after the pain you’ll be inflicting on me I’ll be getting cake and a blowjob.” 

"That’s unhygienic." 

"I don’t care." 

"I know you get nervous—"

"I do _not_ get nervous!” Jim squawks. “And besides. You didn’t get your _knee_ done. You got a tiny damn arrow going in one side and out the other, completely bypassing the actual damn knee where it’s all fleshy and soft.”

"Are you calling me fat?" 

"Will it mean you won’t tattoo me?" 

"No."

"Boo hiss." 

Jim pouts, and jumps up onto the bed. Leo watches as he settles onto his stomach, looking around at the back of his knees and grimacing. 

"Okay. I’m okay."

"You’re gonna be fine, darlin’." 

"I hate you." 

"I know you do. Which on which leg? The top half on the left and the tail on the right?" 

"Yeah. That makes sense right? If you’re walking behind me?" 

"Uh huh. That makes sense." 

So Leo putters about, fiddling with the trace and the stencil, getting the placement right and all the inks laid out. Today, after a stroke of genius about two weeks ago, Jim’s getting the upper half of a mermaid coming out from the crease of one knee and the tail coming down from the crease of the other. Then Leo’ll work on some pirate oriented sails and treasure for the front of his knees in a few weeks time.  

Leo’s thinking blonde and purple in the hair and a nice ruby red for the tail, specks of blue water from where she emerges. 

Leo’s not a sadist, he doesn’t enjoy watching Jim in pain. But he’s really excited to put his name to this design, and to put more of his marks on Jim. It’s been a while since Leo’s had the opportunity to ink him, what with him off at college in Chicago. But he’s finally finished now. He’s twenty five and he’s got his MS in astrophysics and he’s back home in Iowa and back on the table under Leo’s gun again and it feels simultaneously great and terrifying. 

"Breath, Jim. I’ll stop if it gets too much, you just holler, okay?" 

"You don’t have to worry about that, Bones." 

"Hmm," Leo agrees. "You’ve always been a screamer." 

"Ha-fucking-ha." 

"Small lines first," Leo reminds, the start of their tattoo ritual. "I’ve got you." 

Jim grits his teeth through the entire two hour line work. It reminds him of his Wendy silhouette piece—the constant stream of pain from his elbow to his armpit. It reminds him of when Leo tattooed rocket ships, stars and comets all the way up his spine, the brilliant and blinding white heat. Bone deep. 

But it fades out as Leo gets further up his thigh or down his calf. They’re safe places, Jim can handle that. 

"You’re doin’ so well," Leo promises. "You can have a break. I’ll get you some pain killers." 

"I’m not walking for a week," Jim states. 

"You don’t have to. Bed rest is advised." 

"When did you become my doctor?" 

"Maybe in another life, huh?" Leo smirks. 

"Yeah, and you’d still probably be a sadist." 

"Some things never change." 

Leo rubs cream into the back of Jim’s legs, he helps him turn onto his side and feeds him chocolate fudge cake. 

"You ready to go again?" 

"No." Jim sighs, turning back onto his front. "How long?" 

"Four hours. Maybe five. I might just get her tail coloured today. Let that heal completely and do her top half in a few weeks. That’ll be three hours tops." 

"Whatever you think." Jim nods. "I’m just the body, remember. Completely at your mercy and all that." 

"Just how I like you." 

Jim actually convinces Leo to finish both in the one sitting, and then he does end up spending the majority of the following week in bed. It’s not like he has anything else to do, technically it’s still his summer break. He can spend the time writing up some of this theories and searching for a job—maybe in the field, maybe he’ll search for a doctorate place and teach at a university. 

His main concern is sleeping though. 

It’s worth it, once the itchiness has stopped and the scab has peeled. He’s got two fresh pieces that are so completely Jim Kirk it’s a wonder he didn’t walk out of the womb with them. 

They suit his chest piece nicely too. 

"You’re like a walking marina." 

"I hope that’s not a comment on my smell," Jim says, setting his laptop aside. "Besides, it’s only a couple of pieces. The helm, the shark, the mermaid. What about the zoo inhabiting your body, huh?" 

"You love animals."

"Oh, I’m supposed to believe they’re all for me, am I?"

"Everything I do is for you." Leo says, trying to hide his smirk under a cough. He pushes his sweatshirt sleeves up to his elbows, showing off the black and grey muscle work and the forearm full of peaches—slightly faded from the sun—and squirts a dollop of cream onto his finger tips. 

"Such a romantic." 

"Turn over." 

" _Bones!_ You’re meant to be a gentleman."

Jim begins to laugh, watching the blush run up Leo's neck and cheeks. After almost eight years together, who'd have thought Leo could still find it in himself to be bashful?

"Infant," he grouses, tapping Jim's flank to encourage him to move. 

"So you’re fond of telling me."

For his cheek, Jim ends up with a smudge of diaper rash cream on his nose. He doesn’t mind, though; it certainly wouldn’t be the first time at any rate. 

And he doubts it’ll be the last. 


End file.
